


Strong Enough

by Lady_in_Red



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ficlet, Fix-It, Gen, One Shot, Season 3, show canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime Lannister's tongue has always been as sharp as his sword. In captivity, his wit is his only weapon, but using it will have unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during S3ep3, "Walk of Punishment." Dialogue from the show belongs to HBO.
> 
> Thanks to Miss_M for spotting where I'd let book canon creep in.

“I’ll take the big bitch first. Once she’s good and wet, you lot can finish her off.”

Jaime had known it was coming, warned Brienne to expect it. Gods knew how long these men had been without a woman. Brienne didn’t look like much of a woman, but she had a cunt and an arse. And once they’d bashed her teeth in or knocked her out  ( _“Do you think I care about my teeth?”_ ), a mouth unlikely to bite off a man’s cock. That was all that mattered to Locke’s men.

Jaime heard Brienne’s protests as they untied the ropes binding her to the tree. Nothing she said would matter. Men like Locke cared for gold and for sport, and Brienne was sport. Locke’s men were restless. They wouldn’t care if they were the first or the sixth to fuck her that night, might prefer it if she fought and cried. 

_ “Some boys like a challenge. One or two must have tried to get inside big Brienne.” _

_ “One or two tried.” _

Jaime had wanted to get under her skin, find her weakness, push the Maid until she made a mistake. He’d done it too, had his chance on that bridge, but after so long in chains, he’d barely given her any fight at all. If Jaime hadn’t fought her, would they have slipped past Locke’s men? 

Not worth considering.

_ “Ah, you fought them off. Maybe you wished one of them could overpower you, throw you down, tear off your clothes. None of them were strong enough.” _

Her hands still bound, Brienne listened as Locke explained that no one cared what he did to her. She was stubborn, but she wasn’t stupid. They were going to kill her.

Jaime looked away, but he heard Brienne strike out, struggle, grunt in pain. She wouldn’t close her eyes and think of pretty, dead Renly. She would keep fighting until the end. If she was lucky, she would die quickly. 

Brienne didn’t look to Jaime for help. Why would she? 

His words were ashes in his mouth now.  _ “I’m strong enough.” _

“Take her over there where it’s dark. I’d like a bit of privacy,” Locke ordered. 

_ “You’d love to know what it feels like to be a woman." _

Brienne would know soon enough. No boisterous, embarrassing bedding. No drunken coupling in a roadside inn. Just the cold, rocky ground beneath her, the stench of unwashed men, rough words and rougher hands.  

Jaime shouldn’t care. He owed Brienne nothing. He was the Kingslayer in her eyes, good for nothing but buying the Stark girls’ freedom. This night would not be the first time Jaime had heard or seen a woman taken against her will. Queen Rhaella had begged and whimpered while Aerys had savaged her, leaving her bruised and bloody. Cersei had never made a sound when Robert had visited her bedchamber. Perhaps she’d known what Jaime would have done if he’d heard her. Bad enough that Jaime had seen the king with his whores, could too easily imagine Robert’s sweaty bulk pinning Cersei down.

Bile rose in Jaime’s throat as they dragged Brienne away screaming. He’d expected a battle cry from the Maid of Tarth, not that desperate wail. Locke’s men would use her until her flesh was as raw as her voice. 

_“If I were a woman, I’d make them kill me. Thank the gods, I’m not.”_

Brienne cried out again. How long until she stopped screaming? Until her blue eyes dulled? Jaime knew too well what would be left of Brienne of Tarth by morning. 

No one deserved that. 

“You know who she is, don’t you?” The words fell from Jaime’s lips before he could think. He turned, faced Locke with all the confidence a man bound to a tree could manage. 

Locke turned his attention to Jaime. “Big dumb bitch from who cares where. I’ve never been with a woman that big.”

Gods, that’s what he cared about? Locke might be even dumber than Jaime had supposed. This might mean both their deaths, but Jaime couldn’t listen to Brienne scream anymore. 

“She’s Brienne of Tarth. Her father’s Lord Selwyn Tarth. Heard of Tarth?”

Locke moved closer. Intrigued. That was good. Ignorant—even better. 

While the distant sounds of Brienne struggling echoed through the trees, Jaime spun his tale and hoped the clever tongue his father so despised may yet save both Jaime and the Maid. 


End file.
